


To a Place of No Return

by agentx13 (rebelle_elle)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/F, i think some kind of crept in, limited pov, made the mistake (or amazingly awesome decision) of watching Mad Max, mentions or brief appearances by other characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-07 21:52:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4279254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebelle_elle/pseuds/agentx13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: "You're the leader of this rebellion and I'm you're right hand man"</p><p>Natasha is attacked while on a supply run to help the rebellion. Sharon leads a mission to stop the so-called ghost who attacked Natasha, not realizing it's a trap. Natasha sets out to save Sharon and the others before the ghost gets them. Natasha doesn't realize it, but it's the beginning of the end of the decades-long rebellion. But can a few rebels survive a suicide mission to take down the Gov once and for all?</p>
            </blockquote>





	To a Place of No Return

"You're the leader of this rebellion and I'm you're right hand man"

Darcy ran in to tell her the caravan had been spotted, and Sharon hurriedly locked her papers in the hidden compartment beneath her desk and ran toward the fort’s walls. Darcy fell into step beside her. “The usual,” Sharon told her. “Make sure Jane has the medbay ready. Tell Weaver to stand by for supplies.” Darcy nodded and disappeared down a hallway.

At the parapet, Antoine handed her the spyglass. “Looks like they took some damage.”

“Supply runs are dangerous. Bound to happen sooner or later.” She pressed the glass to her eye and swallowed. It had been bound to happen, sure, but she had hoped they’d manage to beat the odds a little longer. Judging by the smoke rising from two of the trucks, the busted tires on four of them, and the holes and scorch marks in all five, she could only hope that all their people had survived.

The trucks followed protocol and spread out a quarter-mile from the gates. The passenger-side door in the truck in the middle opened, and Sharon didn’t wait to read what signals Natasha sent. The sight of Natasha’s bloody face was enough for her to yell at the guards to open the gates. She flew down the stairs to meet the convoy.

Natasha’s truck made its way through the gates first. Sam opened her door and caught her as she stumbled out.

Sharon stopped in her tracks and stared at the blood that coated Natasha’s face and stained her clothes. She couldn’t hope any longer that all their people had made it. She just had to hope that Natasha, at least, would pull through.

*

Sharon pushed down her panic and turned to give orders to close the gate. Weaver was already ordering people to help unload the trucks, and Sharon stood nearby helplessly. She wanted to help, wanted to do something; she also wanted to put off talking to Jane and Sam.

But she was second-in-command here. She didn’t get to live according to her wants. 

Sharon strode purposefully toward medbay. She steeled herself before shoving her way through the doors.

The medbay was loud, poorly equipped, and thoroughly unsanitary. Natasha and Sharon had agreed to give Jane and Sam funds to brighten the place up and buy cleaning supplies, but they couldn’t allocate any more room to the medbay without giving up storage facilities or barracks space. Worse, Natasha hadn’t been able to find any lightbulbs bright enough to satisfy Jane on her last few runs, and so the lights that still worked were dim and yellow. The blood on the floor looked black.

Sharon had long ago become innured to the smell of blood. The scent was thick in the air as she walked carefully through the blood so as not to slip. She heard someone moan and patted his hand before moving toward Jane.

Jane barely glanced at her before rattling off what Sharon wanted to know. “We’ve lost three. Bloom, Cale, and Mack. Most people have superficial wounds. If you want me to get back to fixing up Natasha, Talbot, Lorraine, O’Brien, and Mike, though, you need to leave.”

Sharon nodded and turned on her heel. At the doors, she dipped her shoes into a pan of pink water until most of the blood was off. By the time she got to her office, she no longer left a trail of wet footprints behind her. She glanced at the man standing outside her door. “Koenig. I need you to get in touch with Billy. Tell him we lost three and have five in critical, one of them Natasha. Then I need you to make sure people from the caravan come to my office to report.”

Koenig nodded, then hesitated. “Did they say whether she’d-”

Sharon clenched her jaw. “No, we don’t know if she’s going to make it.” She let herself into her office, and in the quiet where no one could see, she took a deep breath. It came out as a sob.

But she was Natasha’s second-in-command. She didn’t have the luxury of appearing weak. She had to seem strong so people believed she was strong. Sometimes, the illusion was enough to get them through until they found something real to hold on to. She got herself under control and tried to do her work as best she could. They had rebels to keep alive.

*

She had never seen Natasha so pale. Even the next morning, after Sam woke her up and Sharon realized she had spent the night in the chair beside Natasha’s bed, Natasha was still pale.

Sam handed her a cup of coffee and sat beside her. “You figure out what happened?”

“Ambush,” Sharon said. She sipped the coffee. It tasted like hot water with a coffee aftertaste. She downed it in seconds. “One guy nearly took out the whole caravan. Natasha took him on so the caravan could get out. If Mike hadn’t doubled back, she probably would have died. As it is, they’re both critical.”

She looked over to where Mike’s son Ace lay, curled against Mike’s side as Mike slept. Sharon had grown up in the rebellion; she didn’t remember a time before people had fought the Gov. She hated that Ace might grow up the same way. She wondered if this was how her aunt had felt when Sharon was younger. Not that it mattered anymore. Peggy had jumped on a grenade so her team could get out safely years ago.

“How long before she’s...” She trailed off, scared to say what she was thinking. Before Natasha was awake? Before she was back to normal? Not so pale? Or was she going to wake at all?

Sam shrugged. “Shouldn’t be more than a day or two. She lost a lot of blood, took some hits, but she’s stabilized. Talked with Jane a bit. Made fun of me for wearing goggles during the operation.” He shook his head. “Just because I added yellow tape so people would know they were mine...”

Sharon rolled her eyes, and the two of them sank into silence. “I’m going to kill him,” she said at last.

Sam glanced sideways at her. “Want help?”

She studied Natasha’s bruised face, the stitches, the bandages keeping her ribs together. “No.” This was something she wanted to do on her own.

*

There was no official third-in-command. She and Natasha filtered through people to fit different needs. They should have considered the possibility that both of them may not be able to work.

Raina was out. Despite Raina hanging around Sharon’s office and a meeting that implied Sharon would be a fool not to assign a strong but comforting person to the role - meaning Raina, of course - Sharon didn’t trust Raina’s lust for power. 

Barton was also out. He was clever, but he also preferred to be detached from people if he could help it. Sharon needed someone clever, adaptable, but also approachable.

In the end, she chose Akela Amador. The woman had been on supply runs before and had taken over management jobs when needed, showing an ability to think on her feet and adapt quickly. Sharon spent the morning explaining as much as she could to get Akela through the next couple of days. Either she would be back by then, or Natasha would be up and about and finding a new second-in-command.

She slung her pack over a shoulder and headed down to the courtyard, her steps slowing when she saw Sam, Clint, Carla, and Antoine. She stopped in front of them and crossed her arms with a sigh. “Carla. You’re not coming. Your husband needs to rest if he’s going to heal, and he’s not going to do that if he’s coming after you.”

Carla glanced at the others. Sam nodded quietly in agreement with Sharon; Antoine shrugged. Clint concentrated on his arrows. Carla huffed. “Kill the bastard for me.” She walked back toward medbay, and Sharon was left staring at the remaining three.

“She’s my best friend,” Clint said firmly. “I’m not letting somebody kick her ass and get away with it.”

“And I think you’re stupid to go alone,” Antoine said. “You need somebody charming along for the ride, and I’m the only one around here who fits that description.”

Sam mock-glared at him. “Hey. I’m right here. Apparently we haven’t met?” As Antoine rolled his eyes, Sam turned to Sharon. “I can do med in the field, and you’re going to need it if one guy did all that to a whole damn caravan.”

Sharon glared at them as hard as she could, but none of them backed down. “Fine. Come on.” She signalled for a car and for the gate to be opened.

“So why are we going after this guy?” Sam asked quietly. “It doesn’t make sense to leave base. We’re safe here, right?”

Sharon nodded to the guards at the gate as she got in the drivers’ seat. “Because they assigned someone capable to stop our supply run. What’s the best way to make sure the supply runs stop?”

“End the need for supplies,” Clint piped up from the back. “You think he’ll do it?”

She bit the inside of her cheek. “Everyone in the ambush said that he just kept coming at them. That means he’s going to keep coming. And the base... I told Akela we have time, and I told Koenig to talk to Coulson about either taking in our people or sending us backup. But yes. I think he’s still trying to stop the supply run, and that means tracking the caravan to base.” Her hand rested on one of her guns as she drove through the gates. “We’re going to kill him. Barring that, we’re going to slow him down.”

“This,” Antoine said from beside Clint, “is why we need an optimist along.”

*

The first thing Natasha registered was pain. More pain that she had known in a long, long time. She had been raised with pain, and yet she had forgotten how much it could hurt until now.

Jane was at her side as soon as she groaned, murmuring to her about taking it easy, but Natasha didn’t have time to take it easy. He was out there. The assassin was out there. 

“Where’s Sharon?” she slurred. “Need to talk to Sharon.” Why wasn’t Sharon there right then? Whenever Natasha was in medbay, Sharon made it a point to be there with her if she could.

“She and some others left base. She left Akela in charge. I’ll get her.”

“Akela?” Who the fuck was- Oh, right. Akela. Why the hell had Sharon left _her_ in charge? Why the hell wasn’t _Sharon_ in charge? Wait. Why had Sharon left the base? The base was supposed to be safe. She pushed herself up, only to find herself shoved back down.

“Do that again,” Darcy threatened, “and I’ll sit on you. And you have broken ribs, so it’s going to _hurt._ ”

Natasha gasped. Now that she had moved, she knew without being told that she’d broken some ribs. She had the vague memory of someone coming back for her as she lost consciousness... Mike. Right. Mike Peterson.

When her vision cleared, she found Akela Amador looking down at her. “You didn’t stay unconscious as long as they estimated. Good.”

“She never does,” Jane offered from out of sight. “She doesn’t need bedrest as long as she ought, either, but she’s going to get it anyway.”

There was steel in Jane’s voice that Natasha had always appreciated, though she appreciated it more when it applied to people other than herself. She’d have to wait to sneak out until she was certain Jane was distracted.

“Where the hell is Sharon?” she grated.

“She took off after the one who attacked you,” Akela explained, voice calm. “She explained what I need to do in case of an attack. I’m to hold the fort until you’re up and about again.”

Natasha growled in pain as she tried to sit up again. Screw waiting for Jane to be distracted. Sharon had just done the stupidest thing she’d ever done. Natasha had thought her second-in-command was smarter than that, but apparently not.

“Okay,” Jane said cheerfully. “That’s more than enough of that.” Natasha felt something sharp in her arm, and as soon as realization hit as to what it was, she was already sinking back into sleep.

*

Clint jostled Sharon awake and pointed ahead as he drove. She sat up straight, scanning the horizon for threats, and he grunted with dark humor as he slowed down the car. “Market’s coming up. Driving’s going to get tactical.”

Understanding what he meant, Sharon reached back to wake Sam and Antoine. There had been a time, perhaps, when the entire area had been thick with trees. After the Gov had taken over, there was a drop in the population, and nature had begun to take over land it had lost. After the rebellion started, word had it that the Gov had hacked down as much of the woods as they could to try and get the rebels, but the rebels in the woods had fought them off. If Sharon and Natasha hadn’t thought that the place could be bombed at any moment to wipe the whole forest off the map, they would have let their people stay there.

Clint stopped the car a mile away from the first trees and waited. After the seconds stretched into minutes, he said, “No signal.”

Sharon nodded. “If one guy did that to the caravan, he probably did worse to the Market. Drive into the woods.”

Clint gunned it, and Antoine, Sam, and Sharon held their weapons at the ready. If someone were going to ambush them, it would be now, when they were still in the open.

They reached the woods, and Clint parked. “He’s going to hear us if we keep using the car.”

Sharon nodded, but she was frowning as she got out and looked around. She adjusted her protective vest. “He couldn’t have slipped past us, right?”

Clint gave her a look that said he was trying not to be offended. “No.”

She grunted. “Fine. Single file. Clint in front. Then Sam, me, and Antoine, you bring up the rear.”

“If that’s your way of calling me an ass...” Despite joking around, Antoine moved behind Sharon and pointed his gun at the ground. As he glanced into the trees, he was all business.

“I would never be so subtle,” Sharon promised quietly. She nodded to Clint, and they moved out.

*

Clint didn’t let her down. As their leader, he saw two traps that the others wouldn’t have noticed until too late. If Sam and Antoine doubted his abilities, Clint’s sharp eyes convinced them to trust him; as soon as he held up a hand, everyone froze.

“Smoke,” Clint said. “Gasoline. Rubber.”

Sharon could barely smell anything unusual. The wind shifted, and it was gone.

Clint disappeared into the brush, and the others followed, still walking in a single file. 

Sharon heard Antoine grunt and spun around, her gun raised. Someone kicked it out of her hand, and Sharon responded with a kick of her own. She sparred with the Widow. There was no way she was going to go down easy.

“Bobbi?” Clint hissed.

A hand grabbed Sharon’s wrist and held on. She glared at the face of its owner and gaped. “May?”

Bobbi nodded to Clint, her hair matted with blood and a bruised temple. “Clint. Welcome to hell,” she greeted them dryly.

*

This time, Natasha was careful not to make noise as she pushed herself up. Jane, though, anticipated her, and one pinch to a nerve cluster later, Natasha was flat on her back again.

“Don’t think I won’t do that as many times as I need to,” Jane threatened firmly.

Natasha coughed, and Jane held a straw to her lips. After several sips, Natasha asked, “Where the hell is Sharon?”

“She went after whoever attacked you. The fort’s in good hands. Amador’s holding things down while you recover.”

Natasha groused. “How long ago did she leave?”

Jane frowned down at her. “This morning. What are you thinking, Natasha?”

Natasha tried to sit up again. After a moment’s hesitation, Jane reached out to help her. “She can’t fight him.”

“She isn’t alone,” Jane pointed out, pressing the straw to Natasha’s lips again. This time, the liquid was sweet. Was that pomegranate?

Natasha waited to ask another question before she drank. “Who’s with her?”

“Sam, Trip, and Barton.”

Natasha groaned. She didn’t want to lose two of her best friends, one of her best medics, and one of her best guards to someone who fought like an extremely violent ghost. “They’re going to die, Jane. Get me up.”

Jane shook her head. “You’re sure as hell not ready to get up. You’ve been shot, Natasha. You’ve lost a lot of blood.”

“You’ve already stitched me up. Now help me the hell up!”

*

“Got waylaid halfway in,” May explained as Sam cleaned a scrape at her hairline. “Tripwire. Didn’t see it until too late.”

Sharon kept an eye on the woods over May’s shoulder. She still couldn’t sense anyone out there, and that bothered her more than knowing where the man was. “You only came with four people?” she asked, not looking at any of them. The two men, Mack and Hunter, glanced at her before looking at each other.

“It was five, actually.” May’s voice was somber. “This was an information run, mostly. Bobbi would have been on her own, but Coulson had something to deliver to the Market.”

“Good thing she wasn’t on her own,” Hunter said in an undertone.

That was startling enough that Sharon focused her eyes on May. “ _To_ the Market?”

May nodded. “We were headed to you next, then the Tower. We have a new rebel. She found out that the Gov’s going to try and wipe us all out. Coulson wanted to make sure everyone was on the same page.”

Sharon dropped her head into her hands. After a couple seconds, her shoulders started to shake. 

“Uh... Sharon?” Clint frowned at her in concern. Had she cracked?

She straightened and wiped her eyes. “They’re going to wipe us out. They sent somebody to cut us off from supplies to wipe us out more easily.” Her faint laugh faded into a groan. “He wasn’t hunting down our base. He was just trying to protect the Market from the rebels so they couldn’t take supplies and would be starved out sooner.” She looked back to Clint with a helpless shrug. “I thought I was protecting the base. But I just led us straight into a trap.”

*

Laura hadn’t stopped shaking her head since she’d heard Natasha’s plan. “Jane says you need to _heal,_ Nat.”

Natasha’s expression took on a familiar stubbornness. She hadn’t held the fort for as long as she had by giving in whenever someone wanted her to. “You want me to get better? You help me with this, Laura.”

Laura looked helplessly to Jane.

Jane’s expression of frustration was familiar, too. “I’m having Koenig send a message to Helen. If I find out you undid my work...”

Natasha smiled grimly. “I’ll let you kill me yourself.”

Jane snorted. “Nope. I made an oath. But I might turn a blind eye while Darcy sits on you.”

*

“We need to get word to Coulson and Akela,” Sharon said firmly.

“If we try to leave, we’ll likely be attacked,” Hunter pointed out. “Idaho had the same idea.”

May explained. “Our radios don’t work this far out.”

Sharon chewed her bottom lip as she thought. “Anything at the Market that could help?”

After several seconds of silence, Clint stood and slung his quiver over a shoulder. “It’s going to be night soon, and we’ll be sitting ducks out here. I say we hit the Market anyway. We might find reinforcements or supplies.”

“Food,” Mack said with a nod.

“Drinks,” Hunter chimed in wistfully.

*

The walk was slow going. Clint was in front, May in back. Sharon was relieved to find that May’s team knew what they were doing as well as her own. They were as silent as ghosts; only something superhuman would have detected them.

Night fell, and a cacophony of insects rose in volume. They walked on, following Clint in single file as he lead them around traps and noisy areas. Sharon’s feet began to ache. She ignored it. The moon began to trek across the sky, and it seemed to Sharon that the moon went faster than they did.

Clint stopped and waved Sharon forward. When she got to his side, he pointed ahead, and she stared at the orange light far ahead of them. Smoke rose thick above it to hide the stars.

She turned and signalled for the others to stop. They huddled close, Clint staying apart so he could act as guard. “The Market is burning.” Which meant they weren’t going to find safety or supplies there.

May, evidently, wasn’t thinking along those lines at all. “Then we know where he is,” she said firmly. She met Sharon’s eyes. “There may be rebels still alive at the Market. We’re the only backup they have.”

“There are only eight of us,” Sharon reminded her. “He nearly took out one of our caravans. He killed three of our people.”

Antoine checked his weapons. “And you were going to take him on alone.”

She gave him the most sour look she could. “I wasn’t responsible for anyone else when I had that plan.”

“We’re just as crazy as you are, though,” Sam reminded her.

At Sharon’s sigh, May nodded to Clint. “Lead the way.”

*

To say the ride to the Tower was pleasant would have been a bald-faced lie. The terrain was almost completely loose rocks and sand that couldn’t always provide traction. Natasha bounced in her seat and grit her teeth as Laura drove as fast as she could, and soon, Natasha was fading in and out of consciousness.

She woke to find the Tower less than a mile away and threw an arm out toward Laura. “Slow down!” she ordered.

Laura immediately hit the brakes in a panic, then took a breath and hit the gas again. The engine whined, but they didn’t move. Laura grunted and dropped her head against the steering wheel. She’d been trying to hard not to get stuck in the soft sand, and now look at them.

Someone knocked on Natasha’s window, and she rolled it down and glared at the white-haired man beside her.

Unperturbed, Pietro grinned at them both. “Car trouble, ladies?”

“Just get us the hell inside,” Natasha ordered.

“Orders.” Pietro’s grin widened. “I like when you give orders.”

Natasha was halfway through rolling her eyes when she found herself in the entrance of the Tower.

Steve held the door open for her. “Come on in, Romanoff. You look like hell.”

Pietro flashed her a grin as he slowed down on his return, Laura in his arms. Pietro ran backward for a second, likely to show off, and then disappeared inside.

Natasha scowled at Steve. “You have no idea.”

*

There wasn’t much to tell. Pietro, Steve, and Pietro’s sister, Wanda, sat and listened with Natasha at the table as she reported the supply run’s journey simply and concisely. Then she repeated what Jane had told her, and her concerns about her people. “I don’t have enough people to rescue them, and leaving them isn’t an option. So I came to you,” she concluded.

“What makes you think they are still alive?” Wanda asked. “The man you describe seems dangerous. You ask us to risk our lives for people who may be dead already?”

“No one man can defeat us,” Pietro argued with a cocky smile.

“Yeah,” Laura agreed. Her voice turned pointed as she met Pietro’s eye. “My husband told me how no one ever got the best of you, Maximoff. Certainly not multiple times.”

Pietro’s smile softened. He shook his finger. “Barton, I think, is not dead. He is too stupid to die when someone wants him to.”

Laura smirked. It wasn’t the best compliment her husband had ever gotten, but it was the best Pietro would give.

“Those are some of my best people,” Natasha said firmly. “If there’s even a chance to save them, I’m taking it. And since my doctor has forbidden me to go on a suicide mission...”

Pietro nodded. “I will help. I want to hear Barton admit he needs my help.”

Steve hung his head and sighed, and Wanda looked at him with sympathy. 

“I just heard from Coulson,” Pepper said as she walked in. “Some of their people went to the Market and haven’t come back. After the attack on Natasha’s supply run, he thinks the Gov turned the into a trap.”

Natasha knew what to do when the room suddenly felt like it didn’t have enough air in it. She took a deep breath and held it. Sharon had just walked into that trap.

“That decides it,” Steve said firmly. “We’re going to the Market.”

“And this one cried,” Pepper murmured, “all the way home.”

Pietro didn’t seem to understand the reference. He stood, scooped Wanda in his arms, and winked. “We will get there first.” And then he was gone.

Steve sighed, and Laura patted his back in sympathy.

*

Clint blocked May with an arm and pointed to a thin wire.

May nodded silently and stepped over it, gesturing for others behind her to do the same. Seconds later, Clint pointed out another trap. 

“Trying to get us to screw up as we get closer,” Bobbi muttered darkly. 

Sharon understood her frustration. They wanted to reach the Market as quickly as possible, but the unseen, unheard, and unsensed man who might as well have been a ghost had set up a seemingly infinite number of traps to slow them down. 

They passed five more traps before Clint cursed and turned, tackling May and Trip to the ground. The blast knocked the rest back.

Sharon felt something brush her leg as she flew backward. She remembered the tripwire they’d stepped over several feet ago. Something boomed nearby, and her vision went black.

*

Natasha jumped as Pietro pressed himself against the passenger side door, Wanda on his back.

“We found their vehicle!” Pietro shouted at Steve. “It’s empty. And there are traps on the road in front and another car, damaged. Do you want me to set off the rest of the traps? I can do that!”

Steve shook his head and shouted back. “Dismantle them so we can go in without the ghost knowing! Wanda? Did you hear that?”

Wanda nodded, squinting against the wind. “I’ll make sure he does so. Come, Pietro.”

And with that, they were gone. Natasha turned to stare at Steve as the woods loomed into sight, a cloud of dirt marking Pietro’s trail.

“They’re good kids,” Steve told her. 

Natasha shook her head and leaned forward, hissing as her ribs protested.

“You should have stayed and let Helen help more.” Steve’s voice was quiet over the sound of the engine.

“She zapped me with something. I feel better already. She and Laura can keep each other company.”

His eyes moved from the woods to Natasha’s face. “And it got Laura to stay out of danger. Which you chose not to do, despite getting mauled by your so-called ghost not too long ago.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Let it go, Rogers.”

“Just trying to keep you alive, Romanoff. You know I like a challenge.”

Pepper leaned forward from the backseat. “I’m getting a heat signature.” She kept her gaze steady on a device on her wrist. The device was attached to a metal sleeve that looked like thin armor. “It appears to be human and is too slow to be the twins.”

Steve looked at Natasha, and she nodded. 

“Let’s get him.”

*

Sharon was only aware of the cold at first. Her fingers curled as she sought a blanket, and then, as if sensing she was awake, the pain swamped her. She moaned, and her body rebelled even more.

“Easy,” a voice murmured. She felt someone’s hand on her forehead, smoothing away her hair. She quieted as she recognized Sam’s voice, then groaned again as he pressed something to her face. “Yeah, yeah, you big baby. Open your eyes and tell me your name.”

Sharon grunted and forced her eyes open. She knew this test. This was the concussion test. She blinked, made a pained sound as faint light hit her eyes, and muttered curses under her breath as she closed her eyes tightly. 

“Nope. That doesn’t count. Try again.”

Sharon took a breath. “Sharon Carter,” she muttered, her voice hoarse. She recited her age and what she’d had for breakfast that morning.

“Good. Nice to see you remember what I’m going to ask from the _last_ time you took a blow to the head. You left something out, though.”

She grumbled and forced one eye open, then the other. Sam made her say how many fingers he was holding up, then follow them with her eyes as he moved them around. By the time he was done, she was peering around as it sank in that they were in a cell. Though it could have been a closet with a door made of bars, she supposed. “What happened?”

“Explosion.” Now that her eyes had adjusted, she could see that Sam’s other hand was swollen, the fingers twisted. He’d wrapped his shirt around a gash on his arm, but it still bled sluggishly. There were scrapes on one side of his face. “I woke up on the way over here. May said she woke up when Gov agents came to take us away. Said they were taking us to the Capital.” He swallowed. “They hit her for talking, hit me for listening. Woke up here next. Don’t know where the others are.”

Her fingers shook as she reached to touch his injured cheek. “Sucks for the Gov,” she joked feebly. “Can you imagine how pissed May’s gonna be when she wakes up? Now come here and let me look at that arm. You probably need somebody with two good hands to patch that up.”

Sam forced a grin, but he dropped the pretense as they heard a pain-filled scream in the distance. Sharon glanced at Sam, but his gaze was intent on the hallway. She gently turned his face, and his attention, back to her.

“Let me see that arm,” she said firmly.

*

After the beating he’d given her, taking on the ghost with Steve, Pepper, Wanda, and Pietro was underwhelming. With Pepper’s readings, Pietro’s speed, Steve’s strength, and Wanda’s- Natasha didn’t know what to call it, though she pretended to understand it all the same - Natasha felt superfluous.

But she knew there was one thing that she was better at than the others; each base had developed their own methods, and no one working with Steve had ever gotten the knack for torture. Unfortunately for the masked man currently on his back in the middle of the circle, Natasha was in the mood to torture someone.

As soon as she stepped forward, though, Wanda put a hand on her arm. “Allow me.”

Natasha bit the inside of her cheek and crossed her arms, forcing herself to step back. Whatever Helen had done for her, she felt up to another round with the ghost. Especially given what was at risk. “Get him to tell us where Sharon is. And Clint, Sam, and Trip.”

A red cloud already stretched from Wanda’s fingers to the ghost’s temple. She looked over her shoulder at Natasha, as if to say she knew what she was doing, thanks, and Natasha pressed her lips together.

Wanda closed her eyes. After a minute, she looked from Natasha to Steve. “The Government is gathering rebels to experiment on. They will wipe us all out and experiment on any survivors. The ones who were alive were taken to the Capital.”

“Was Sharon one of them?” Natasha demanded, her heart twisting in her chest. “Clint? Who did he send to the Capital?”

Wanda studied Natasha as the ghost looked at her blankly.

“Blonde,” Natasha said impatiently. “Blue eyes.”

Wanda faced the ghost. “That fits the description of two of the women he sent.”

Natasha frowned. Two women? Sharon could be a handful, sure, but she didn’t qualify as two- “How many did he send?”

“Eight.”

Steve nodded to Wanda. “What kind of experiments?”

“He doesn’t know.” She looked at the ghost with pity. “They experimented on him, too. He does not even know his own name. He has no self but what they... No, that is not right.” She frowned, closing her eyes again as she concentrated. “He recognizes you both. He does not know how, but he knows he knows you.”

Steve hesitated, then stepped forward and carefully tugged the mask and goggles off the man. Once he saw the man’s face, he froze.

“Bucky Barnes?” Pepper blinked. “But- but he’s-”

Natasha stared even though she couldn’t see Bucky’s face through Steve’s arm. “He was dead. He was dead, Steve. Everybody- he was dead.”

Steve’s shoulders slumped. He fell to a knee in front of Bucky and gripped Bucky’s shoulder with one hand. “I was wrong, okay?” His voice croaked. “I thought he was. I- There was no way he could have- Buck. Buck, I’m- I’m so sorry, Bucky. I thought you were dead.”

Natasha moved to see Bucky over Steve’s shoulder; he stared at Steve without blinking. Slowly, one of the ghost’s hands went to Steve’s arm, the grip uncertain.

Everyone stayed frozen long enough for Pietro to fidget.

At length, Steve got to his feet and shouldered his shield. “Pietro. Send word to the bases. We’re taking down the Gov.” He held a hand out to Bucky, who eyed it without reaction.

“They undid him,” Wanda said softly, her hair whipping in her face as Pietro took off. “He will not be the man you remember, Steve. He will never be what he was.”

“I’m not leaving him again,” Steve said gruffly. “Never again.”

Wanda sighed and wrapped an arm around Bucky’s shoulders. “In that case, I will do what I can.” She helped Bucky to his feet, and Natasha stared at him as they moved past her.

She turned to gape at Steve and saw the familiar set of his jaw.

“I’d better call our inside man,” Pepper said slowly; she recognized that look, too. She headed toward the car.

When they were alone, Natasha drew closer.

“I have to warn you, Steve. Attacking the capital is different from attacking something like the Market. It could be suicide.”

“Are you going even though it’s suicide?” His voice was flat.

Natasha thought about Sharon and Clint, about what experiments they might be suffering. She wondered what it would be like to have either of them look at her like Bucky had looked at Steve. “I’m thinking about tearing the whole goddamn city down.”

Steve nodded. “Same here. Besides. If we don’t do this, they’ll attack us when we’re apart and weaker. They’ve got all the power. United we stand, divided we fall. Way I see it, we can die fast, or we can die slow.”

Her lips twisted into a wry grin. “Is that your inspirational speech? Because if so, you might need a better one for everybody else.”

*

She and Sam slept in shifts. They curled up together in the corner for warmth and so one would wake if the other was pulled away suddenly. Nothing was silent here. The base hadn’t been quiet by a long shot, but people hadn’t spent so much time screaming or sobbing or praying there. Sharon didn’t even understand what religion anyone here could possibly have. Underneath those sounds were others that were just as constant. It took Sharon an embarrassingly long time to realize that a tap against the wall wasn’t a random dripping but a message.

*

Even with Pietro’s help, it still took hours to get everyone together and then talk about a plan. Steve spent the time talking with Bucky. He beckoned Natasha over at one point so she could talk about how Natasha had originally been trained by the Gov and how Bucky must have seen her there, even trained her, but Natasha hated to talk about that time as it was. Thinking about it when she was already thinking of Sharon in a cell wasn’t helping.

When Coulson finally arrived with his people, she couldn’t believe they’d bothered to wait so long in the first place. Four people? Four people to help take down the Capital. With Steve’s five and herself and, maybe, Bucky, that meant they had at best eleven people. Eleven people against the Gov that had oppressed them all for decades.

Coulson met her eyes, and she knew he understood what she was thinking. They didn’t have enough people to succeed. 

His face remained impassive. “This is Skye. She can help with the tech aspect of things. I’ve also brought Fitz and Simmons, who have assured me that they’re not going to die on their first mission in the field.”

“Second,” the man with him corrected quickly. 

Coulson took a breath. “I also got word to some others who-” He nodded to Natasha as a busted-up jeep pulled behind his. “-Will actually arrive on time this time.”

Natasha had only met Fury a handful of times, but she was more than familiar with his work. He was the one who had kept the resistance going after Sharon’s aunt had died. She recognized the driver, Maria Hill, and gave her a nod. Maria Hill was capable enough that Natasha actually felt better about their suicide mission. Maybe, with Maria’s help, they would hold out a couple minutes longer.

Fury hopped out of the car. “So does somebody here have a plan or am I going to have to come up with one myself?”

Natasha and Steve looked at each other, and then their eyes were drawn toward Bucky as he raised his metal arm uncertainly. “I... I might be able to help,” he said slowly.

Steve looked at Natasha, a brilliant smile on his face.

She wished he wouldn’t have so much hope. Rebels weren’t known for long lives. “Talk fast,” she ordered gruffly.

*

There was no change in the light. Meals, if they could be called that, were delivered irregularly. Sam found parts of a rat in their most recent bowl of gruel and made a face. Looking at the door, he stared sullenly at the soup. “Might be all the protein we get.” They each pushed the other to eat more, even though Sharon knew they were both starving. Together, they finished off the bowl, and together, they retched in the corner.

“I get why everybody was screaming,” he said weakly as they sank back in their corner.

When she felt up to it, Sharon returned to tapping against the walls. It took time to spread messages, but she was able to ascertain that everyone was in a cell but May.

She opted not to mention May’s absence to Sam. He was still optimistic and hopeful. She didn’t want to ruin that.

*

“Again,” Wanda said as Natasha glanced back at her, “I am sure.”

Natasha watched Bucky walk through the thick gates unchallenged. She still wasn’t certain Wanda and Steve’s hours of talking to Bucky would make any difference. Bucky had been the Gov’s tool for too long.

Steve looked at Pepper, who was gnawing at her lip as she watched schematics on her wrist monitor. “Pep?”

She nodded and lowered her arm. “Tony left the back door open for us.”

Natasha frowned. “Tony _Stark?_ ”

Pepper watched her out of the corner of her eye. “Yes, Tony Stark.”

“The guy who created Extremis is our inside man?” 

Pepper pasted on a far-too-polite smile. “Tony solved the equation while drunk, and the Gov found out and took him. We turned it to our advantage.”

Natasha had been careful not to have hope for this mission. Now she had even less.

“Tony designed the security system?” Skye asked, hitting buttons on her tablet. It looked like it had seen better days, but then, Natasha thought, they all looked like that. “That explains a lot.”

“Skye, keep in the center. FitzSimmons, you too.” Coulson nodded to Steve and the others, and they moved into position around the three as they headed toward what Pepper had referred to as the “back door.” They walked carefully through brush and through puddles to reach a wall. 

Pepper nodded to Steve and pulled on her helmet. Metal plates slid over her body to form a suit around her. “JARVIS. Open sesame, please.”

There was a quiet click, and part of the wall swung open a couple inches. “I’ll go in first,” Pepper said, her voice distorted by the helmet. “Make sure the coast is clear.”

Natasha wordlessly took the space right behind Pepper, and Pietro gave her a flirtatious grin as he got in line behind her. Wanda sighed with exagerrated patience and took her place behind him; Coulson took a place behind her.

Steve looked down the line and sighed. “Guess I’ll bring up the rear, then.”

*

Sharon jolted awake as she heard another scream. Sam was already awake, his arm around her shoulders. A bowl of untouched, watery soup lay untouched by the door, but as hungry as she was, she couldn’t bring herself to pull it closer. She could still smell the vomit from the last meal.

“How long has that been going on?”

Sam’s eyes were still focused on the hallway. She heard the dull popping sounds of explosions far away. “Maybe an hour? But I swear, Sharon, that one was closer.”

She looked at him as best she could in the darkness. He seemed to be wearing down, and she quietly moved his arm from her shoulders and wrapped her arms around him instead.

There was a clang as the door opened, and the two of them froze. There seemed to be nothing in the hall but a gust of wind.

Sharon frowned. “Pietro?”

In the blink of an eye, Pietro stopped in front of her doorway. “I would say hello,” he said, sniffing, “but I will wait until you do not smell so bad.” He disappeared from sight.

“Charming,” Sam muttered as he pushed himself to his feet.

“I think he meant me,” Sharon teased, accepting his help to stand. Her head swam badly enough that she thought, for a moment, that she saw Natasha in the doorway.

“I’m not staying,” Pietro said firmly. “It smells here, and I want to help fight the Gov.” A blast of air blew Natasha’s hair in a gust, and Sharon stared at her.

“You’re-”

Natasha stepped into the cell.

“You’re okay?” Sharon swallowed thickly. “They-”

“Yeah, I’ve got some questions about that, too,” Sam said, looking Natasha over in confusion.

“Helen,” Natasha muttered, her eyes focused on Sharon. Her fingers drifted over the wound on Sharon’s forehead, and Sharon’s breath caught at the almost-contact. Her breath vanished entirely as Natasha grabbed her and kissed her hard on the mouth. “Don’t you ever do that again,” Natasha snapped as she pulled away. “Don’t you _ever_ do that again.”

Sam made an inquisitive sound nearby, but Sharon’s head was spinning too much to register anything beyond that. All of her thoughts were on the kiss and how soft Natasha’s lips had been.

“I- I- I haven’t-” Sharon blinked dumbly. “I haven’t brushed my teeth...”

Natasha made a face. She smacked her lips together before her expression twisted, and she spat in the corner of the cell. “We’ve got toothpaste at base.”

Sam covered his face with his hands. “Speaking of, can we get out of here? You two can make out all you want at home.”

Sharon glanced at him, a warm feeling spreading through her as Natasha took her hand and tugged her along. She squeaked as a figure appeared in the doorway.

“Bucky,” Natasha explained quickly, even though it explained nothing at all. “Bucky? You okay?”

Bucky held a red head under his arm and reached to touch the bloody neck as if to assure himself it was really there. “The Skull is dead. That’s what I would have wanted, right?”

“Yeah, it is. Go find Steve and Wanda and help them take care of the rest of the Skull’s supporters. I’m going to take these guys to the cars.”

Bucky nodded and disappeared.

In the hall outside, Sharon found the rest of their group, with even more people that she didn’t recognize. “Wasn’t Bucky dead?” she wondered aloud. “How long were we in here, Natasha? What the hell-”

Natasha grinned. “Let’s get everyone safe first, then I’ll answer your way-too-many questions.”

*

Months later, the two were back at the Gov, in a thick bed in their own room. Gone were the screams and taps against the walls. The dungeons were now used as storage for the rebels to sort through as they tried to catalog everything the Gov had done and tried to find the graves of those they had lost.

“You think he’s going to offer you a position in his Cabinet?” Sharon asked. She was dressed for bed, her head a comfortable weight on Natasha’s shoulder as she read the reports scattered on the bed.

“No fucking way,” Natasha muttered. “I’m too much a rebel to be a Cabinet girl.”

“We’re all too rebel for civilized government,” Sharon mused. “Steve was too much a rebel to be President until everybody insisted.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “He’s been talking about what the country ought to be and quoting the Founding Fathers for years. If he didn’t want to be elected president, he should have shut his mouth when he could.”

Sharon snorted.

As the silence stretched, Natasha huffed. “What do you think he’ll want from you?”

“Babies.” She squealed with laughter as Natasha poked her in the ribs. “I don’t know. I’m your right-hand man, Natasha. I go where you go.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “My right-hand man?”

She snorted again. “You know what I mean.”

Natasha nodded and kissed her neck. She wouldn’t tell Sharon, but she wasn’t sure she wanted Sharon to go with her everywhere. She still hadn’t gotten the image of Sharon in the cell out of her mind, and like hell was she ever going to let that happen again.

*

Sharon didn’t like the thought of being apart from Natasha, but Steve was right. Natasha had experience in traversing enemy territories, and the fledgling country was vulnerable to enemies abroad. As Steve put it, they were “surrounded by enemy territory.” She saw the glint in Natasha’s eye, the one that said she was ready for another fight, and Sharon looked at Steve as if asking what she’d done to deserve this.

“I’d actually like you in the Cabinet,” he admitted. “You’ve got experience managing bases, and Pepper used to do that for me. Now she’s helping Tony rebuild the country’s infrastructure. Rebuilding the country is going to be a 24-7 job, and I’m going to need someone who understands what it means to make it run and what supplies we’ll need, someone who can keep her cool if things to wrong, someone that people can rely on.”

Natasha squeezed her hand, but Sharon didn’t respond right away. “It doesn’t hurt that my last name is Carter, does it?”

“No,” Steve admitted. “And helping Bucky might be in your job description, too. He vaguely remembers Peggy sometimes.”

Sharon sighed. From what she’d found out, May and Bobbi would be her supply people; she knew she could work with them. Natasha would be a field agent, while Coulson, Fury, and Hill would be getting the country’s spy network off the ground and figuring where Natasha needed to go to be of the most use. Trip had lost an arm when they’d taken the Gov and was overseeing Steve’s protective detail. Raina was campaigning for a Senate seat. Lorraine had offered to work as one of Steve’s secretaries. Jane, Helen, and Sam were working building a hospital to help everyone who had survived the rebellion. Akela was working to fortify strategic structures. Everyone had a use. Except her.

“I’ll do it,” she said quietly. “But I’m not just babysitting the country, Steve. If I’m in your Cabinet, that means I get to say how I think things should be done.”

Steve nodded. “I wouldn’t expect anything less of a Cabinet member.”

She looked to Natasha. “And I’ll always be your right-hand man.”

Natasha grinned. “I’ll hold you to that.”

**Author's Note:**

> I was fortunate enough to get a prompt for a drabble. _Un_ fortunately, it went from a drabble to a much, much longer fic. Thank you for reading, though, and I hope it wasn't too disappointing!


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